


Made Black by the Moonlight

by teacupsandtime



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: Post Wrath of the Lamb. Hannibal watches Will take a life.





	Made Black by the Moonlight

With a cry that surprised him in its violence Will Graham felt the air rip out of his lungs as the man who’s back he held tight against his chest forced them both back into the wall behind them, rattling the hanging picture frames. The man was becoming frantic - clawing at the arms around his throat - as Will tightened his grip. He could feel the tickle of their sweat combining where his face rested near the crook of the stranger’s neck. 

Tighter and tighter. 

With a sudden - and final - burst of energy the man wretched himself forward, bending hard at the waist, and spun around pulling Will away from the wall as the two of them went tumbling to the floor. There was a flailing of limbs as Will hooked one of his legs around the man’s side and pulled himself up to straddle him. His fingers quickly made their way to his throat, the stranger’s pulse dancing under his hands. 

Tighter and tighter. 

The stranger tried to throw his weight off again but quickly gave up and instead focused his remaining energy on the hands at his throat. With everything he had in him he struggled to pry Will’s viselike grip off his trachea as his vision started to blur.

Will watched the blood rush to the man’s face, his head vibrating from the force of his hands and the stranger’s insistence on living. In his face, Will could see it: why are you doing this to me?

Leaning in slightly, Will stared deeply into his eyes. 

“Because it pleases me.”

The red vessels in the man’s eyes throbbed as the grip on Will’s hands began to grow faint, the pulse under his skin slowing. It was only a moment later when Will felt all resistance slip away, those fighting hands falling flat on the wood floor of this man’s home.

The home he’d broken into only a couple of minutes before. A man who’d been preparing to go to bed when he’d been attacked by a stranger in his house. A man who’s life was selected for termination in part because of its loneliness; because no one was waiting for him in that bed. 

Will released his hands slowly and pulled them away, staring at the red marks on the stranger’s throat as he leaned back and rested his weight on the body between his legs. The man’s eyes lost their focus and rolled back, his mouth slack as the last bit of air left his lungs.

Will swallowed and rocked back on his heels, coming to stand above him. He turned and stepped away from the stranger’s body and walked towards Hannibal as he stood in the threshold of the room. Will wasn’t sure how long he had been there but he knew it had been long enough for Hannibal to watch the man die. 

He stood there in a pair of black slacks and sweater, his greying hair slightly parted to one side. His face looked flush as Will approached him; his eyes twinkling with pride - and something else. 

The blood in Will’s body was racing - fists curling and releasing slowly - as he came to a stop right in front of him. Hannibal turned on his heels so that they stood directly in front of each other, mere inches between them. The air around them crackled as Hannibal’s lips curved up into the slightest of smiles. 

In the months that had followed their plunge into the ocean they’d hardly spent a moment apart; licking each other’s wounds and waiting for their strength and health to return. On the first night they’d crawled out of the water they’d barely made it to the shore before they’d collapsed side by side, their fingers just barely entwined as if to assure themselves that the other was still there. 

They’d woken a couple of hours later, still miserable and broken and wet, and crawled through the woods until they were able to flag down a sympathetic motorist who Hannibal had quickly dispatched. Will had fallen asleep in the car, not understanding how Hannibal had the strength and mental awareness to drive. The next thing Will could remember was stripping off his wet clothes in the small motel bathroom, Hannibal doing the same next to him. 

Their clothes peeled away like a layer of skin, revealing black and purple flesh underneath. Will stood dazed as Hannibal had stepped naked into the tub-less shower and beckoned for him with a single outstretched hand. Without hesitation Will had taken it and allowed himself to be pulled into the shower. Barely moving they’d stood under the hot water, their chests pressed together, and lazily cleared away the blood, dirt, and grime from each other’s bodies; the water at their feet turning black as it made its way down the drain. 

After what seemed like both an eternity and only a few moments, Hannibal had turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and handing it to Will before taking another for one for himself. Neither one of them really dried off, opting instead to shuffle to the lone bed in that dingy, depressing room and collapse, naked and damp and on top of the covers. At some point, Will was certain he’d woken up on his back with Hannibal curled into his side, his ear pressed against his heart. 

He couldn’t remember too much of the days that followed. 

There had been more long car trips, motels and hotels, a few necessarily and hesitantly shared beds, and meals that Will knew must have been driving Hannibal insane with their banality. They were changed the second their bodies hit the water but it was during one of those meals - was it seared Ahi tuna on greens with picked ginger? - that Will remembered looking at the man sitting across from him at the small table in their room and thinking this was it. This was his life now. This is what his life was always meant to be. 

He was always meant to be with him. 

Since the day they met there had been something between them that neither one of them had ever felt before; a connection made only deeper as Will slowly began to accept and embrace his true self. They’d begun to naturally gravitate toward one another, sit closer, breathe in unison. 

They were men obsessed. 

Years of torment and heartbreak, pain and suffering, slowly breaking into a careful trust and new intimacies. 

And now Hannibal stood before him in silence, the air around them thick with death and electricity. Will took a small step forward, their chests almost touching. There was an unmistakable pride in Hannibal’s eyes as he looked at him, this man he thought he’d had and then lost and then had and then lost. 

And then had. 

After a long, seemingly pondering moment, the older man tilted his head to the side and leaned in, his lips seeking out Will’s for the very first time; the closeness they had shared previously seemingly transcending the need for traditional intimacy until now.

Just before their lips met, Will reached up and locked a single hand around Hannibal’s throat and pushed him away, his back hitting the wall behind him with a thud. Hannibal looked startled, but put up no resistance as Will stepped closer to him, the fingers on his neck tightening as Will’s other hand followed suit and locked around Hannibal’s throat like a collar. 

For a long moment, Will studied him; his fingers massaging the flesh of his neck, his thumbs digging into the hollow of his throat. Hannibal felt vulnerable to him. Will wasn’t naive enough to think that if the two of them ever did set out to seriously hurt each other that Hannibal wouldn’t tear him apart but for the first time since he’d met him, he felt like he could give him a hell of a fight. 

Will felt him swallow. 

Slowly, Will released his grip on Hannibal’s neck and slid his hands up to cup his jaw. He stood like that for a while - holding his face in his hands and feeling adrenaline flowing through him. 

“Will.”

His voice was soft with pride, gentle with love. 

Before his name had fully left his lips, Will brought their mouths together. Everything in his body at once relaxed and came alive as they sighed into each other like men who’d been given a taste of water after traversing a desert. 

It wasn’t long before Hannibal’s arm came to rest on Will’s hips causing Will to break their kiss, but keeping their mouths a breath away. He reached down and pulled Hannibal’s hands off his body. 

“No,” he said firmly with a hint of playfulness. 

Hannibal exhaled, confused and wanting; there was a fire behind his eyes. 

“You don’t touch me,” he continued. “I’ll touch you.” 

Hannibal seemed to stare through him but he allowed his hands to relax at his sides, Will’s hands still holding them in place. When Will felt the resistance leave him, he leaned back in and connected their mouths again. It was slow and teasing at first, their lips touching as if they were asking a question. Never in his life had Will kissed someone that he felt so connected to. Of course, he’d never kissed another man before either. Nor a serial killer. And yet here he was in the living room of a dead stranger moving his lips against against a man who’d killed more people than he knew of. 

A man who’d hidden an illness from him. A man who’d left him open and bleeding on his kitchen floor in a pool of blood. A man who’d sawed into his head in preparation for eating his brain. 

Life’s funny that way. 

Will removed his hands from Hannibal’s and wrapped one around his neck and the other around his waist, grinning slightly into this mouth as Hannibal’s hands continued to stay limp at his sides. However, while his hands remained still, Hannibal’s mouth was pushing back and moving against his with everything that the rest of his body was being denied. They breathed heavily into each other, sighing, as their tongues met and moved back and forth. Hannibal was straining his neck to get closer.

Will bit at his bottom lip with a sudden sharpness that made Hannibal pull back. They both tasted blood. 

Something in Hannibal’s face had changed. Something had come alive in him and Will felt his chest rise and fall heavily and he crushed their mouths together again. 

“Touch me,” he murmured between breaths. “Touch me. Touch me. Touch me.”

Immediately Hannibal’s hands came up and grabbed at the side of Will’s face, his fingers digging into the back of his skull and gripping at the dark curls there. There was an insatiable manner about the way Hannibal’s hand dug into him now and Will pulled back with a loud gasp so that he could catch his breath. As soon as their mouths disconnected, Hannibal’s lips moved to the space behind his ear before continuing down his neck, leaving wet patches in his wake. 

Will rested against his body for a moment, an embarrassing and needing sigh spilling from his mouth as his cheek pushed against Hannibal’s shoulder. The older man’s arms were tight around his waist now and Will felt himself meld into him. Will slipped his hand under the warmth of Hannibal’s sweater and felt his hot skin, taking a moment to savor the contact before he hooked his hands under his arms where they connected with his shoulders and used all of his weight to throw Hannibal away from the wall and onto the hardwood floor underneath them. 

Hannibal yelled out in surprise and pain as his body unexpectedly connected with the hardwood, and again as Will’s body came to straddle his, a knee on other side of his hips. He was struggling to catch his breath as Will grabbed his wrists and held them over his head, pinning them down. 

The man underneath him was on fire.

“Fight me,” Will whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “Fight me.”

Hannibal smiled again and pushed up against him, feeling the force Will was using to hold him in place. He flexed his fingers above his head. There was a stillness in the air before Hannibal quickly moved one of his legs out from under Will and skillfully wrapped it around his waist, using the strength in his lower body to force Will’s torso down onto him. Struggling to regain his foundation, Will reflexively released his grip on Hannibal’s wrists and found the older man’s arms immediately come to wrap around his shoulders, throwing Will off of him with a shockingly easy motion and reversing their positions. 

Will managed to free one of his hands before Hannibal had a chance to pin them both down and quickly moved it to Hannibal’s throat. He pushed into the soft skin there with a force that made him wonder if he was holding back. Hannibal couldn’t help but laugh - though not in mockery - as he wretched his neck away from Will’s gasp and pressed the entire weight of his body on top of him, one hand still holding Will’s other wrist and the other coming to violently grab a handful of his hair. 

Delirious, Will smiled as Hannibal pushed their mouths together again. The weight of his body was crushing, his thighs were keeping him from moving - knees digging into his ribs. Every time Will tried to move the pressure on him somehow tightened. With his free hand Will pushed his fingertips into Hannibal’s hip as hard as he could, aching to break fabric and skin. 

Their bodies rocked together back and forth on the stranger’s floor, his body laying only feet from them. Will flexed the digits of his pinned hand, trying to reach down to grab at Hannibal’s fingers, not to push away but to bring them into his own. Their breath was heavy and hot between them as they separated their mouths only long enough to get air and slightly alter the angle of their embrace. 

Hannibal’s hand was still balled in a fist in his hair as Will moved his hand off his hip and brought it to his crotch. He felt Hannibal’s breath skip against his lips and he rubbed him with the palm of his hand, his hardened body pushing against the fabric of the dark slacks he wore. Hannibal drove himself down on him hard, trapping Will’s hand between their straining bodies before he released his grip on Will’s wrist and moved both of his own to the waist of his jeans. 

Hannibal stared into his eyes and he undid the buttons and pulled his fly down. There was a questioning in his face that seemed ridiculous to Will given the circumstances but he was grateful for it anyway. Pushing up, Will lifted his hips up off the ground and let Hannibal pull his jeans down below his knees, his boxers following soon after. Placing one knee between Will’s legs and another on the side of his body, Hannibal brought a cupped hand to his mouth, spitting into it with an eloquence that only he could have managed, and lowered his hand down to stroke at Will’s rigid length. 

Will’s mouth fell open with a pitiful sound. 

As his hand began to move up and down, Hannibal buried his face in Will’s neck, his teeth teasing and nipping at the skin there, his shoulder coming up to his ear and back down and he continued his work. Will’s hands moved to grab at the back of Hannibal’s neck and head as he clinged to him, his body completely and totally surrendered to the man on top of him. 

“I feel like I’m dying,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal increased the speed of his hand. 

“No,” came the response. “You already did.”

Will’s fingers gripped harder on the back of Hannibal’s neck as he came rushing into his hand. His heart thundered against his chest as Hannibal worked everything out of him with continuous pumps of his hand that slowly became softer. They remained like that a moment longer before Hannibal pulled his hand away, bringing it up between their faces and licking at the congealing liquid that clung to his fingers. He seemed to collect himself then and fell to his side, his leg staying in-between Will’s - ear resting on his own bicep. 

When the pounding in his ears died down, Will glanced down below Hannibal’s waist, eager to reciprocate but finding a telling wetness on the front of his slacks. 

“Did you . . . ?”

Hannibal closed his eyes and smiled with an exhale of breath. 

“I am satisfied,” he whispered against his jawline. 

Sighing, Will closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of his slowing heartbeat. Turning his head, he found Hannibal staring at him with hooded lids. 

“What do we do now?” he asked. 

Hannibal pulled himself closer.

“Whatever you’d like,” he said as he kissed him gently. “What would you like to do, Will?”

Will reached down and took Hannibal’s hand in his, finding it caked and sticky. He threaded their fingers together as he leaned close to his ear. 

“I want to feed him to you.”


End file.
